


drowning above the water

by ErinNovelist



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Two Idiots In Love Who Try Not to Fall In Love, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNovelist/pseuds/ErinNovelist
Summary: Lance and Allura begin their slow descent into intimacy, but buoyancy does not have the same properties as gravity.





	drowning above the water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhapsodyinpink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodyinpink/gifts).



“ _Oh_ ,” Allura says, voice trembling as she gasps for breath. “Lance—”

His mouth presses against the skin of her neck, brushing his lips down the curve of her jaw. Unzipping her bodysuit, fingers slip under the fabric and trace constellations against her bare back.

“What do you want?” he asks as hands ghost lower, slowly peeling the bodysuit down over her shoulders and off her chest, until it pools at her hips on the bed.

Shivering against the cool air of the bedroom, she chokes on a moan and lets it fall as a flustered hum from her lips. She presses forward until her heart rests above his. She craves so much more—touch, intimacy, love—whatever he’s willing to give.

“I want you,” Allura breathes out. 

“Okay,” Lance tells her, nodding, “I can do that.” 

He then proceeds to kiss her speechless, until all that’s left is tiny whimpers and quivering thighs, hands tangled in her sweat-soaked curls, as they lay together in the silver moonlight that slips through the curtain-covered windows of her bedroom in the Olkarian palace.

 

*

 

It’s not the first time they sleep together.

For Allura and Lance, they’re both full of loneliness and longing, so they seek solace in each other.

It starts over the long hours of battle planning, huddled over a hologram of the sector they’re exploring. The star maps are activated, celestial bodies dancing in the air and bathing the room in their ethereal, blue glow. Allura is tracing Galra cruiser movements from the latest intel Kolivan and the other Blades have brought them, while Lance studies the nearest Galra outpost, looking for opportunities to overtake it before they can form a retaliation. Overall, it’s an easy time between them, until Lance looks up and notices how pale Allura looks.

“Princess?” he asks, confusion lacing his words. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she answers, voice tight. But her blue eyes have gone gray, and Lance has spent enough time watching hurricanes brew to know when a storm is about to hit. “I’m fine.”

She’s lying. He doesn’t know why though.

It’s not until he raises his gaze and lets his eyes far on the section of star maps they’re studying, and recognizes key points similar from the old maps Coran has hidden in the library. He can spot the binary star system on the edge of the Thathos sector, where a star known as Julibelle used to rest. Like most things in the ten thousand years that Allura’s been asleep, it’s burned out and dead, only scattered stardust and rocky remains in the graveyard of a galaxy long forgotten.

Lance has been studying the stars for most his life by now, and he knows the way the universe works. He can trace the constellations back home by heart, knows the orbits of every planet in the solar system, and recite the names of moons like the lyrics of his favorite song. Everything has a purpose and a rhythm, and as they reach the end of their life, the rhythm stutters and they fall asleep—it’s the natural order of things. 

But he knows the Julibelle system by heart too. Knows its life isn’t meant to be over. But the Galra said different.

The Julibelle system is dead now. Daibazaal gone and Altea as well. All that remains are ghosts that haunt Allura’s memories. 

“Allura,” Lance says, pulling her from her silent musings. Her eyes meet his, heavy and heartbroken, and he can only wrap his arms around her tightly. “It’s okay to miss it.” _It’s okay to be sad,_ he wants to say but knows the Princess won’t shed a tear in his presence.

Her pride has always been more important than her pain.

There’s silence between them as she stands in his embrace, simply staring up at the soft blue glow. “How do you bear it?” Allura asks thoughtfully. “Being away from home? Not knowing if the Galra have taken it too?” 

Lance only shrugs. “I try not to think about it,” he tells her, and it’s the truth. “Otherwise I’ll drive myself crazy. Besides, I have more important things to worry about.”

He feels her move around so that she can crane her neck, leveling him with heavy, inquisitive eyes. “Like what?” she asks in a soft whisper.

“Like you,” he says. _And the universe and our friends_ , he doesn’t add because this moment doesn’t warrant that. Allura doesn’t need to know that other people come with or before her—right now, she needs someone who’s there just for _her_.

 There’s only silence as she stares at him, and he can’t help but stare right back, both simply listening to the heartbeats and quiet breathes that fall into the space between them. They’re like twin suns locked in a binary star system, lost in orbit and never destined to touch, but always in each other’s light. However, Allura is a force of nature as she breaks the laws of the universe to lean forward and capture his lips with hers. The kiss last for a few seconds before she’s pulling away, cheeks flushed. 

Lance doesn’t even have time to kiss her back. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Allura murmurs frantically against his chest, fingers curling in the material of his shirt. She refuses to meet his gaze. “That was very unprofessional of me, and I apologize sincerely. It’ll never happen—”

“Allura,” he snaps.

She raises her head at his tone, frantic expression etched into her face. “What?”

“Shut up,” he says and kisses her back.

It’s wet, messy, and rough, but it’s something he’s been holding back for some time. Stunned, Allura is still in his arms, so he shifts and tilts his head, slotting his lips harder against hers, and presses closer. Then she’s pushing back, leveling him with wild eyes so fierce and bright, before diving back in with fervor. He can taste it on her lips—the familiar lonely ache that echoes deep—where both of them just want to feel _something_ to replace the hollow feeling.

His hand tangles in her hair, the messy bun coming undone under his fingers, and he uses his hold to gently pull her back. “What do you want?” he asks because he needs to _know_ before anything else happens. He wants her—has wanted her for years—but now that she’s here, breaking and vulnerable—he doesn’t want to take when she may not be ready to give.

“I want you,” she says, eyes blown wide, but there’s a certainty in them. Allura surges forward and kisses him again, murmuring against his lips, “Please… Right now, I just want _you_.”

Lance ducks his head and nuzzles her jaw, making her shiver. “Okay, I can do that.” And then he’s sliding his arms around her, and she’s kissing him harder.

It feels like hours later, even though it’s only been a few minutes, when Lance finds himself with Allura against the glass of the observation deck, knee between her thighs, as he slides his hand up her leg, pushing the long skirt of her dress up with it. Lips press hot, open-mouth kisses to her neck while she gasps, his hand ghosting under the thin fabric of her underwear.

“Y-You certainly know what you’re doing,” she says, breathless. His fingers find her wet folds and spread them, pushing on her clit with a firm thumb. 

Lance smiles against her jaw. “You sound surprised, Princess,” he murmurs lowly. 

“Not surprised.” Her voice is shaky, her legs too. His fingers rub harder, and she throws her arms around his shoulders like that’s the only thing keeping her from floating away. “Just interesting. Makes me w-wonder who you’ve been practicing on.”

“Doesn’t matter,” is all he says because other people are the last thing on his mind right now.

Rolling his hips against hers, he lets his own shaky gasp join hers, hot breath tickling their skin. His finger traces her entrance, and then he’s pushing inside— _so wet and warm and tight!—_ and the next few minutes are full of muted whimpers and low groans from the back of their throats. After a while, they crumble into a loose embrace, shaky fingers and hands gripping each other to ground themselves. Allura leans her head back, closes her eyes, and relaxes into Lance’s grip. Lance captures her lips in a messy, sloppy kiss that lingers as they come down from their aftershocks.

“Thank you,” Allura says, shaky, after she comes.

“Anytime, Princess.” Lance simply grins down at her, all heavy-lidded eyes and small, grateful smile.

She’s beautiful, and he’s breaking.

But for a moment, they’re together, and everything is okay.

 

*

 

A week later finds Lance straddling Allura’s prone form in the training room. His hands rub in long, hard strokes down her back as she groans miserably into the cold floor, sweat-tangled hair pooled around her head like a white halo. His heart is thudding in his chest, and he knows it’s not from the panic and fear that struck earlier when the Gladiator had hit her side with its staff during their training session, sending her flying into the wall.

It’s something different entirely.

After the incident on the observation deck, he knows what she sounds like and how she feels. Before, his fantasies were comprised of bits and flashes from glimpses in the communal showers or on their off-days when her languid form is draped over the couch, relaxed in all the ways royalty can never be. However, their lonely night led to the real thing, and now he can’t get it out of his head.

“Harder,” Allura moans, and it goes shoots down between his hips. “I know you’ve got it in you.”

“You’re tight,” he says. “I’ve gotta take it easy, or it’s gonna hurt later.” His hands dip lower on her back, pressing into the firm muscles along her spine as she lets out a small whimper of appreciation, massaging them to prevent stiffness from building up later on. Injury care and prevention is one of the few electives from the Garrison, and it’s a good thing else Allura might have spent a few hours in a cyropod from the soreness.

 _Have to be in tip-top shape to protect the universe_ , Coran always says. Though Coran is the farthest thing on Lance’s mind right now. Instead, he thinks about Allura underneath him, her warm skin just beneath the bodysuit, and the way her moans and groans flit past his ears like his favorite song.

His hips roll forward instinctively. Allura’s whimpers take on a new tone.

“L-Lance,” she says, “What’re you doing?” 

“Nothing,” he tells her and tries to think of anything else—anything at all. 

Her hips thrust up and back. He stills. “What do you want?” Her voice is ragged and hoarse, rough with an emotion he can’t quite place but is slowly getting to know.

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what he wants. “You,” slips from his lips though, fluid like a waterfall. 

Allura props herself on her elbows, craning her neck to look back him. “Okay,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I can do that.” 

It’s as simple as that. 

Soon, she’s rolling over and stripping down on the training deck, all tanned skin and lean muscle under her bodysuit. Lance fumbles with his zipper until Allura’s steady fingers pull it down for him. “Not so sure of yourself now, are you?” she teases, eyes sparkling with unbridled mirth. 

“Only because I don’t have a condom,” he snaps back, cheeks burning. The only pack he has is under his bed, a recent package from the Space Mall, and suddenly the trek to his bedroom seems too long and hard when Allura is right her, warm and real.

“Condom?” Allura cocks her head in confusion. “What’s a ‘condom’?”

“It’s a thing that we use for contraception,” he tries to describe, but words are lost to him right now. Not when Allura shifts atop of him, her wet heat low against his belly, and his cock presses against the curve of her ass. 

“Oh, the external sheath,” she comments like it’s the most mundane thing in the world. Leaning back, she digs around in her body suit until she pulls out a thin white package.

Lance stares at her, wide-eyed and gawking. “What the hell? You carry those around everywhere with you?”

“You never know when you’ll need them,” she tells him.

It’s his turn to be confused. “Who have you been shacking up with, Princess?” 

She presses her lips into a thin line, not even dignifying him with a response as she opens the package, grabs his cock, and slowly rolls it down him. A moan slips from Lance’s lips and into the heavy air between them, pulling a pleased smile from Allura.

“Doesn’t matter,” she quips, an echo of their conversation earlier, but so much worse. Biting her lip, she takes him between her fingers and lines him up with her entrance and slides down slowly.

He’s wrong. It’s so much _better_ than last time.

 When Allura finally stops at the hilt, she wriggles atop his hips, body quaking in pleasure. After a few moments as she adjusts to him inside her, she leans forward and captures his lips in a quick kiss, breasts bumping against his chest. They’re sticky with sweat after a long, grueling training session, but not moving is taking more exertion than the actual training.

Tentatively, he rolls his hips up, but she’s pressing her hands against his shoulders to keep him anchored to the ground. Lance falls back with a sharp _smack!_ against the deck, staring wide-eyed at the Princess of Altea, who wields a strength he’s never been able to overcome. 

“You helped me,” she whispers against his lips. “It’s only fitting I help you too.”

Lance doesn’t know what she’s talking about, and his mind is too gone to try to figure it out. Instead, he lays back and watches her rise on shaky legs and drop back down, falling into a rhythm that takes his breath away. Hips pumping hard, her own moving fast, they work together on the deck in a haze of hot, perfect post-training sex. It’s messy and sticky, wet and warm—everything needed for a quick release.

"Allura," he gasps out as she clenches around him. "I'm-"

A sharp breath escapes her as he angles his hips  _just right_ , eager to pull her over the side of the cliff face at the same time as him, though he knows it's not a realistic endeavor. Doesn't stop him from dreaming though. A haze settles over the two of them as they rock, Allura moving him his lap as he thrusts upwards. 

"You are so..." His words turn into a breathless moan, and he's nearly incoherent. " _Fuck_!"

" _Q-Quiznak_ ," she says in agreement, though he's not sure if she's teasing him or joining him. Regardless, his hands tighten on her hips as he pulls her back down against him at the same time he slams his hips up. It pulls a broken whimper from her lips.

Lance closes his eyes and gets lost in the sensations and rhythms. The air smells like sweat and blossoms of some sort, though he's not sure if it's him or Allura, but it doesn't really matter. A hand reaches up to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her close enough to kiss. His release hits the same moment his lips touch hers, and he simply pants as he comes hard inside Allura with a soft cry. 

Allura's hand sneaks between them, his too weak to help (and he swears he'll make up for it later). Soon after, she hits her release and gasps against his lips, quivering thighs clenching tight against his hips as she rides it out.

When it’s over, Allura collapses against the floor of the training deck, shoulders heaving as she gasps for breath. “What are we doing, Lance?” she asks him while he fights to orientate himself.

 “Whatever we want,” he finally says because he doesn’t know either. Whatever is between them—this unspoken connection—escapes definition.

There’s silence between them until Allura turns to him and says, “Do we need to stop?”

He tilts his head and meets her with an imploring gaze. “Do you want to?” 

Instead of answering, she leans forward and captures his lips with her own. 

It’s enough of an answer for him. 

(At least for now).


End file.
